


Nothing Better to Do, Nowhere Else to Be

by Mazen



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom - Susan Kay, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, SO MUCH FLUFF, quarantine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23600842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazen/pseuds/Mazen
Summary: Christine is under quarantine in Erik's house by the lake. She has stayed there before, but things are a little different when you can't leave.
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 14
Kudos: 147





	Nothing Better to Do, Nowhere Else to Be

Christine was bored. So very bored.

They’d been quarantined for nearly three weeks now, not even going out for necessities since Erik had his house so well stocked that it wasn’t required to leave the property.

She was in no way allowed to go anywhere outside his well secured property. While Christine wasn’t in any risk of becoming seriously ill from the virus that had become a global pandemic, Erik was overly worried about damage to her voice and lungs. He’d even threatened to stop teaching her if she left.

However, she was more concerned about him. He was almost twice her age and seemed pretty frail. She also knew he had heart problems because she’d entered his music room one evening when she’d first visited him where she found him in a vulnerable position: without his mask. The mask she’d promised not to ask him about and she had discovered why.

He wasn’t just ugly; he was disfigured, or perhaps more accurately misshaped. He’d later told her that he had looked like this since birth and no amount of plastic surgery had been able to fix him.

When she’d walked in and seen his face, he’d screamed and thrown around things, terrifying her immensely; she’d been rooted to the spot in fear while he raged until he’d suddenly gripped at his chest, out of breath, and fallen to his knees in front of her, gasping for her to get his pills. Heart medication.

When he had taken his pills and his heart had calmed, they’d wept together from the emotional moment. He had told her about being abused by his mother for being a monster, leading him to run away when he was 12. He'd lived on the street for years and had gotten addicted to heroin which was the cause of his heart condition now. His face had alienated him from other people all his life and though he'd gotten his life together and out of his addiction, he still found it hard to be around other people. A mask wasn't accepted by normal people and his face was feared.

Christine had promised him that his face didn’t matter to her. It had been the truth; she’d found him attractive ever since they had begun talking with each other and after having gotten to know him so well, the horrific face was only a small part of him.

She had met him by accident online. At least by accident on her part. He had responded on a video of her singing that she’d put on YouTube for Raoul to see while he was on an expedition in the North Pole. She usually didn’t let anyone hear her sing, but Raoul had asked for it as a birthday present. The file had been too big to send on Messenger or email and she refused putting it on Facebook. YouTube had seemed huge and anonymous; who would ever want to watch a video of Christine Daaé with her amateur singing?

But The-Angel-of-Music had. He’d found a way to send her a private message on YouTube, though she had disabled the possibility, and had written to her, asking if she had a tutor. Slowly, they had developed a semi-professional relationship over the next few years.

It had been after a few months of messaging and him giving her feedback on her singing that she’d first heard his voice. And heard him sing. She didn’t know what he looked like, his age or even his current location at the time, but she’d been immediately enchanted by that rich, smooth voice that easily wrapped itself around her and made her feel special.

He had always made her feel special and she’d begun to look forward to their nearly daily talks that sometimes didn’t involve music at all. What had begun as a nice distraction from her work as a caregiver at a daycare center became the favorite part of her current life, especially when she broke it off with Raoul who was never home.

After a lot of persuasion on her part, they had met in real life about two years after he’d contacted her on YouTube. He’d warned her about the mask and she had mentioned that her friend Meg owned a gun and would be there to keep an eye on them (it wasn’t true, but Meg was overprotective). But Erik had turned out to be exactly the awkward, brilliant man who had given her singing lessons online and listened to her random musings.

What she hadn’t expected was his gracefulness, his long spindly hands or the way he commanded the space around him, even when he was uncomfortable out in public. Her attraction towards him was impossible to deny and she had begun to think it was mutual; the atmosphere around them had changed, becoming charged and practically feverish at times, making her skin electric. Especially when they sang together. Never had she felt such a deep connection to another person, as though their souls knew each other in another life.

She’d often thought about what a relationship with Erik might be like since then and had found the idea exciting. He was a passionate man with an abundance of talents, a sarcastic and dry sense of humor and she always longed to be with him whenever they were apart. But after the quarantine had begun, it had become obvious that he didn’t feel the same way about her.

This was the fifth time she was staying with him at his house and had been fairly spontaneous; the daycare she worked in had closed down when a death from the virus had been confirmed in the country, and she had taken the opportunity to spend some time with her favorite teacher. It had only meant to be four days like the other visits she’d had to his little house by the lake, but on the third day the government had declared a national state of emergency and everyone was to stay indoors, unless they were in need of medical help or food.

Usually when Christine was with Erik, he would spend all his time with her, singing, playing and reading to her, but after she’d been here five days, he had started to stay more away from her. The heated tension rose between them every time they were near each other and while she felt drawn to it, he fled from it. He avoided her innocent, friendly touches that he normally seemed to enjoy. She was clearly becoming too familiar with him; he was telling her to back off in a passive aggressive way.

She shouldn't complain really. His house was much preferred to be quarantined in, compared to her shabby little apartment. The house itself was small, but she had her own room and there were plenty of books and all streaming services available. He even had a little forest with wildlife, along with a little cove in the lake where Christine could feed ducks in the afternoons when he was composing. There was even a chicken coop where they could collect eggs. It wasn’t like she was cooped up in the house like she would've been in her apartment.

She was really lucky to be there. Meg had told her how crazy people had behaved when the quarantine was announced, emptying the stores for toilet paper and disinfections. That stuff would’ve freaked her out if she had seen it with her own eyes unlike Meg who'd just laughed about it. Being at Erik’s house made her feel safe.

But she missed having company. She wasn’t a social butterfly, but she had a few friends that she saw often. Now that everyone was in quarantine she still texted them and even talked on the phone with Meg every day. It was almost like having her there. So what she missed the most was talking to Erik. When they were apart, they texted or video chatted all the time, but now he was avoiding her.

She spent a lot of time just thinking. Too much time really and most of her thoughts were about Erik. How much it bothered her that he seemed to shun her. How she missed touching him. And how she wished he would touch her with his long, skilled hands in less innocent ways, going as far to even daydream about his long body against hers.

Despite being embarrassed about these thoughts, she’d shared them with Meg after her second week at Erik’s house. Keeping her fantasies bottled up inside would make her act upon them and that would surely ruin the friendship with Erik. Of course, the bubbly blonde’s reaction had been very predictable.

“You should totally seduce him.” Meg had said casually. “But I’m gonna warn you: I know 40 Year Old Virgin was a funny movie, but I don’t think it’s even remotely appealing in real life.”

"You think he's a virgin?" Christine had felt a bit uncomfortable discussing her friend and teacher in such a way. It was all very private, her own feelings included.

"Well, duh! The man can't even shake your hand without his ears turning bright red. Plus, when he picked you up at my apartment before the quarantine and you hugged him, he turned into a blubbering mess."

"You were spying on us?"

"Just making sure that you made it safely to his car. This neighbourhood isn't the safest." Meg’d excused and Christine had responded with a sarcastic uh-huh. "Look, my point is that this man doesn't have any experience with women. Like nada! But one thing is certain: he's head over heels in love with you."

“I doubt it,” Christine mumbled as she picked at her fuzzy sweater sleeve. “I barely see him and when I do, he’s going out of his way to keep distance between us. Maybe he’s noticed that I’ve put on several pounds since this quarantine began.” It made her very self conscious to gain weight, but everyone had according to Meg. Except Erik of course.

“He’s probably finding it hard to hide his feelings for you for this long,” Meg had answered with a mouth full of chips, “or his boner. Hahah! Just walk into the music room naked and you’ll see how much he likes you.”

Meg’s reassuring and very confident words hadn’t really helped, but it had made her think of the many ways she could go about approaching Erik. If she dared to.

By the end of the third week she finally caved in. The boredom was too great, the need to spend time with him too intense. So she broke her promise not to walk into any of his rooms without knocking and entered the music room where he’d practically barricaded himself.

The room was soundproofed by Erik when he built the house, making it completely impossible to hear what was happening in there. The music that met her as she opened the door was overwhelmingly magnificent and she found herself frozen to the spot from sheer awe.

Music flowed from the speakers, a whole orchestra playing one of his original pieces (because she could always recognize his music), while his hands moved over the grand piano’s keyboard with an expertise that only came after years of practicing. However, she knew Erik was a natural genius who excelled at everything he did. Perhaps a consolation prize to his unfortunate looks.

The powerful melody drowned out the sound of her footsteps as she entered the room and he continued his playing as she neared him, enjoying the view of a master at work. Her senses were assaulted by the music; it was alluring, conveying longing and great desire with sadness tinged at the edges. Her skin responded, almost humming along with the tune, and she felt every vibration drum through her blood.

Her eyes wandered over his form; he was only wearing a white dress shirt - pristine and custom fitted to his thin frame like all his clothes - and it was hard not to pay close attention to the lean muscles in his back. When she got closer, her gaze fell to his adept hands as they glided effortlessly over the keys as though they’d never done anything else. But she knew that this was true to everything he did with those hands; the thought sent a shiver down her spine.

When she was almost beside him, she saw that his eyes were closed - the music sheets in front of him pointless - the music was him. His jaw was slack and his mouth slightly opened; he was more relaxed than she had ever seen him. She turned away from him, pained by the thought that he never felt comfortable enough around her to be so at ease.

A sigh must’ve left her, loud enough to be heard, because the enchanting sounds from the piano stopped instantly. A click of a button later, the rest of the orchestra from the speakers was silenced as well. She turned back to Erik, embarrassed to have intruded on him once again. And for what? He would never see her as anything more than a student.

He was watching her intensely, that much was obvious even with his eyes nearly hidden inside the mask. His jaw was tense like she was used to, his mouth drawn into a thin line, but she knew him well enough to know that this wasn’t how he looked when he was angry. He was merely observing her - scrutinizing her - as though he could read her mind.

Several moments passed in silence before he spoke. “What are you doing here, Christine?” His tone was passive, but she felt judged anyway; perhaps it was her own guilty conscious passing judgement.

She twisted her hands in her fluffy sweatpants, then instantly cursed herself for not wearing something nice. It was the least she could do when she came into his room unannounced. He noticed it too, his eyes taking in her cozy socks, the worn sweatpants with kittens on them and the tanktop that had been stitched in a few places. His eyes widened, then quickly looked away; in her horror she realized that he must’ve noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra!

For days she’d not bothered to change into real clothes; it wasn’t like he or anyone else were there to see her. Apparently, she’d gotten so used to it that she hadn’t thought about changing before entering his private room!

She wrapped her arms around her as casually as possible and tried to find a spot to focus on; her eyes landed on the piano. “I just thought I would see what you were doing. You didn’t hear me knock,” she lied, “so I opened the door and heard you play. It was incredible,” she finally met his eyes when she spoke the last part. That was not a lie.

His lips lifted a little in a potential smile, yet his eyes looked a little sad. “You’re feeling lonely here?” She nodded, not bothering to deny it, and he sighed. “I’m not the best host. I’m used to my solitude and having you here for so long is…”

“... annoying.”

“... distracting.”

They spoke at the same time. When he realized what she’d said, he corrected her: “Your presence is in no way annoying. Quite the opposite.” He looked down at his hands, twisting them slightly. It awoke a great curiosity in her that he called her distracting in a not annoying way. Still, she hesitated.

“Can I have a look at your compositions?" she gestured to the pile of music sheets on top of the piano. He nodded with a gentle smile. She flipped slowly through the pile, most of the sheets containing half-finished melodies hastily scribbled in Erik's clumsy handwriting. It was endearing.

One of the songs caught her eye because he had added lyrics to it, something he rarely did and only when something was complete. This didn't seem to be. But it was beautiful.

She skimmed over the notes and realized that this was actually something her meager piano skills could handle. Feeling courageous and drawn to the lyrics, she sat down on the bench beside Erik who instantly scooted over to make more room for her than she needed. She tapped out the opening notes slowly before diving into the melody.

The music was astonishing, a simple but yearning melody, pining for something that could never be. She found herself lost in the music until Erik's bewitching voice rang, singing along.

_Please tell me why do birds_   
_Sing when you're near me?_   
_Sing when you're close to me?_

_They say that I'm a fool_   
_For loving you deeply_   
_Loving you secretly_

At some point she'd stopped playing and started to stare at him instead, not missing that he was looking at her; his eyes so full of adoration that it was impossible to deny what she should have guessed immediately: that every single word from this song was about her.

_But I crash in my mind_   
_Whenever you are near_   
_Getting deaf, dumb and blind_   
_Just drowning in despair_

The tension between them seemed to deepen as his song took hold, making her breathe harder than necessary. The air felt thick, crackling with energy, and her urge to touch him was getting harder to resist. Her eyes fell to his mouth; his lips were absurdly thin and appeared to be rough. She longed to feel that roughness, hoping it could scratch the itch on her overheated skin.

_I am lost in your flame_   
_It's burning like the sun_   
_And I call out your name_   
_The moment you are gone_

She swore it wasn’t her imagination when he leaned closer to her, his eyes hooded as the last sentence left his mouth, and with maddening impatience she closed the final, unbearable distance the moment before the melody even ended.

The smoldering embers of the tension between them ignited like a match when their lips touched. Invisible, but very tangible sparks flashed around them, stimulating every nerve inside her; lust grew and surged through her, making her swollen and wet in her lower body. What she'd only meant to be a quick taste was fast becoming a vast rabbit hole drawing her in and she willingly jumped into it.

His hands rose to cradle her face, so tender unlike his burning kisses. Slowly, he slid a hand into her hair, his long fingers gliding between the strands and scratching gently at her scalp. She moaned unabashingly, happily inviting him to plunge her mouth. He groaned the instant their tongues met, the single noise as effective at making desire flood between her legs as the kiss itself was. She wanted him with an urgency that would’ve taken her breath away if his kisses hadn’t already.

His lips were rugged, as she had imagined, and left a delicious trail of tingling where they strayed from her lips and grazed her jaw. She eagerly tilted her head to allow him access to her throat and as he tasted her pulse, she crawled into his lap on the small bench, unable to hold back the need to be pressed against him. He welcomed her gladly, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer while the hand in her hair trailed down to her neck to hold her in place.

"God, you even taste like music," he growled, licking a line from her pulsepoint to her ear. "I want to taste every inch of your skin, devour you, envelop you with me until none of us know where I begin and you end," his deep voice whispered into her ear before his teeth took a slight hold of her earlobe and pulled. She moaned loudly, desperate to make his fantasy come true. Her body was on fire and her sex throbbed almost painfully. Rubbing herself on him, the hard strain between his legs, was relieving, but not enough; however, it did make her intentions very clear to him.

By reflex he responded and lifted his hips to meet her wet center, making them both gasp. Their mouths found each other again in a keen dance of tongues and teeth. Her fingers were working to unbutton his shirt, but the buttons were tiny, making her struggle to expose his skin. He easily managed to lift her top up and over her head, then bent down to take a hard nipple into his scalding hot mouth.

She moaned and pushed her chest further into his mouth, wanting to heighten the sensation. But she bumped against the sharp edge of his mask over his upper lip, accidently scratching her skin and pushing his mask ascrew.

In the blink of an eye he had jumped out from underneath her, so she almost landed on the keyboard behind her. It was obviously a reflex from having his mask moved, but it felt harsh; a feeling of rejection instantly settled in her.

"I'm not sure I can do this." He started pacing as she sat down on the now empty bench, staring dumbstruck at him, not noticing that she was still uncovered from the waist up.

"Wh… What?" Christine was surprised by his sudden change of heart. It was one thing to be momentarily shocked by the mask shifting, but to stop what they were doing completely? Was she that repulsive? He had seemed very willing this a minute ago and she noticed with a quick glance to his trousers that his body still was. However, when she saw him averting his eyes from her half naked form, she felt doubtful and self conscious. To her horror she remembered that she was topless and she hurried to grab her tank top to cover herself.

"I don't think we should go any further with this. I don't have much experience with this."

"Oh... You haven't had sex before?" He'd acted like he knew what to do, but maybe Meg had been right.

"No, I have," he looked at her, his brows furrowing as if he thought she didn't believe him. "There are plenty of women interested in a masked stranger. Hell, my first time was at a masquerade.” He sounded so casual about it. It may not be that way with him, but for Christine sex was something meaningful to be shared with someone you cared about. Erik suddenly sounded so crass, a lot like Meg. Perhaps it was best that she didn’t go down this road with him after all, she thought. Until she heard his next words.

“I haven't ever had sex with someone who mattered to me. I've never dated or even had any kind of a positive significant relationship with a woman before. I always thought it was unlikely that I would. Then I met you…" he eased himself down on the bench next to her, his eyes expressing something akin to wonder. "I don't want to jeopardize what we have for a one night thing. If… if you're just doing this because you have nothing better to do…" He hadn't formulated it as a question, but it was one anyway.

She should have been offended, but she wasn't. His worry was reasonable; she had after all been bored. "Well, it’s true that I have nothing better to do,” she mumbled, fiddling with a black kitten on her sweat pants. “But I have nowhere else I want to be. I wouldn't mind it being more." She raised a hand to his chest where his heart beat rapidly under the thin layers of cloth and flesh. "I want to be here. With you."

He nodded, but uncertainty was still clear in his eyes. He tenderly took her hand from his chest and lifted it to his mask. "And what about this?" She slid her thumb over the smooth plastic, knowing that this was his real worry. To have a tutor, even a friend with a horrific face was one thing. She'd never been forced to see anything but the mask, except by accident; he wouldn't have shown her willingly. But if they were to become something more, there would come a time where he couldn't wear the mask around her.

Did his face change how she felt about him? No. But could she bear to kiss him without the mask, to wake up to it in the mornings? This she wasn't certain of.

She would have to find out now before taking this any further. Without letting her eyes betray her doubt she carefully removed the mask from his face. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes tightly, afraid to see her disgust, but she felt none. His face was awful, yes, but just as she had pictured it many times since she had last seen it.

Her hand moved gently over the twisted features, his protruding veins and misshapen bones all just as much a part of Erik as his love of music or his brilliant mind. Yes, she could care for this too.

He shook with anxiety, not knowing that she was smiling. With her hand cupping his distorted cheek, she leaned up to place a kiss on his lips, seeing him open his eyes in surprise when she drew back. "What about it?" she whispered, her thumb caressing the deformed cheekbone. "It doesn't change anything."

A smile formed in his eyes, spreading to the rest of his face. He covered her raised hand with his own and turned his head to kiss her palm. "Then we're going to do this right." he decided, more speaking to himself than her. "Put on your best clothes, I'm taking you out to dinner and then the theater." He rose and gripped each of her hands to pull her up; she let him, allowing him enjoy the thought about the two of them on a date before she had to ruin his plans. After all he had forgotten about the quarantine.

"Erik, it sounds lovely and I would love to go with you, but everything is closed. There's a quarantine, remember?"

His brows shot up, momentarily confused, as though he didn't know what year they were in; Christine found it adorable. "I can cook us a nice dinner then," he finally concluded and turned to leave the room, but she reached for his hand to stop him.

"I'm not really hungry. For food," the phrase was tacky and she cringed inwardly. "Maybe we could continue where we left off?" she suggested and felt her cheeks blush profoundly. He stared in puzzlement long enough for her to become really embarrassed, but when it dawned on him what she meant, his eyes began to glisten with fiery lust. Then a hint of doubt crept in.

"You truly want this?" a hand gestured to his face, then swept down the length of his body. It was true that a lot of women probably preferred a muscular man with a handsome face, but she was never really attracted to that type. She was drawn to Erik's long, graceful frame and his slender talented hands that she wanted to feel on her skin. Most importantly, she knew the man inside. His question was an easy one to answer.

"Yes," she breathed, remembering what they had been doing before his mask got in the way, and stepped flush up against him, pulling his bare face down to her lips. He groaned into the kiss, an arm encircling her waist while his free hand stroked up the length of her spine until his fingers tangled into her hair again.

She eagerly leaned into his embrace, her hands running over his broad shoulders as she tried to reach all of him. She was practically climbing him and he seemed to enjoy it; he turned them around, pushed her against the closest wall and parted her legs with his thigh. With a steady pressure he rubbed it against her damp center and greedily swallowed every moan she emitted. If he kept going, she would come this way.

"No," he muttered against her mouth, removing his thigh from between hers - much to her despair, "I'll be damned if our first time together are against a wall. Come," she was about to reply that she would have if he hadn't stopped, but responded enthusiastically instead when he grabbed her right thigh, draping her leg over his hip and encouraged her to jump into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist while he held her steady with a hand between her shoulder blades and the other grabbing the soft flesh of her butt.

With apparent ease he carried her out of the music room through a door adjacent to his bedroom. She'd only seen his bedroom in passing a few times, decorated with dark colors and walls filled with shelves full of trinkets, probably collected on his travels. The room itself held no interest to her now, only the man who led her in there.

They'd barely entered before he slammed her against the door, shutting it while grinding into her at the same time. She could feel him hard through their clothes, driving against the apex of her legs, and she wanted more of it; pulling at the hem of his expensive shirt, she divested him of the unnecessary garment, dragging her nails lightly over his back which earned her a grunt of approval. She ignored the various scars that covered his skin, well aware of his troubled past. What mattered was now.

His own hands roamed too. He grabbed her right breast, kneading it thoroughly through the top before circling the nipple and giving it a light flick. The action forced her to break off their kiss as a loud moan fought its way out and he took the opportunity to spread kisses down her throat while at last carrying her from the door to the four-poster bed.

He bent down to place her on the bed, then removed his shoes and socks before joining her. His eyes wandered over her, taking all of her in, until he settled his gaze on hers. "Do you have any idea how badly I've wanted you?" he took one of her feet, kissing her ankle as he slid the sock off. "How difficult it has been to have you in my house so long without giving into my desire?" He did the same with her other foot before setting it down and started to crawl slowly up her body.

"Usually, I can restrain myself when you're here, but even my patience has its limits," his fingers teased the waistband on her fuzzy sweatpants, "and seeing you in this clothes - so little covering you - has been pure torture." He lifted her tanktop a little to expose her stomach and placed flimsy kisses over her skin.

"That's why you avoided me?" she asked him, her breath shallow. Her body was buzzing with desire, excited by his ministrations and deep, sensuous voice. He hummed affirmingly to her question, his hands sliding under her top to cup her breasts. Calloused fingers traced her nipples before he dragged the top all the way up and helped her lift her upper body (because he was lying on her legs) so she could get it off.

"How could I resist such an enchanting angel?" he remarked as he threw the top on a nearby chair. "By God, you're magnificent," he breathed as he gazed at her bare bosom. She felt a bit self conscious, usually not satisfied with her large areolas or the faint stretch marks from her puberty. Even a little extra stomach after the weeks in isolation. Though there was no mistaking the approval in his glowing eyes, she grabbed the back of his head and tugged him down to cover her.

His thin, hairless chest felt good against hers tender breasts and she hummed in appreciation as she kissed him deeply. He started kneading her breasts, clearly liking that part of her very much, while her own hands began to undo his trousers. When she succeeded, she pushed them past his hips, then used a foot to slide them down over his knees and let him do the rest.

She cupped his shaft through his boxers and his mouth left hers to groan, keen to push his length further into her hand. The girth of him surprised her; it must've shown on her face because her eyes were met with a raised eyebrow and a smirk when she looked back up at him.

Feigning more confidence than she had, she tugged him free of his boxers and gripped his shaft hard around the base while she maintained eye contact, enjoying it immensely when his eyes rolled back in his head. She watched as she stroked the length several times, marvelling over the fact that her hand wasn't any way near to reaching around him; he didn't seem to mind though, delicious sounds leaving him with every stroke.

Watching him come undone above her quickly became her new favorite thing, but he suddenly stopped her hand. "I want so much more than your hand, sweetheart," he rasped, looking at her through hungry eyes, ready to eat her right up. Her core tightened almost painfully with excitement when he discarded his boxers and reached for her kitten-clad sweatpants. As much as she loved the teasing and petting, she was becoming frustrated by the ache between her legs.

Erik seemed to be impatient as well, removing her plain panties along with the sweat pants, before laying down next to her. Together, they watched as his skilled hand trailed a path from her shoulder to the place between her hips where the faint mark from her panties could be seen. He hesitated then, so she parted her thighs in open invitation.

His eyes fell on her face, watching her, as his flat palm slipped gently over her mound, all the way down to cup her womanhood. Her head rolled back, feeling relief and yet very avid for more. "Oh Christine, you're soaked," he sounded astonished, for some reason floored by her strong desire for him.

"Please, Erik," her hand stroked his back, as she pleaded with her words and her eyes for him to touch her further. She wasn't above begging. His eyes were pure fire as he observed her while slowly skating his middle finger from her wet opening and up her slit until he reached the hood of her swollen pearl that crowned her sex. He hummed hungrily when she cried out and raised his upper body, so his mouth could reach her.

He kissed her passionately, drinking her in, as he circled her bud slowly, switching to use his thumb; below a long, hard digit entered her. Her core welcomed the intrusion, engulfing his finger with her wet walls. "Jesus," he breathed against her lips and inserted another finger; a tighter fit, but just as exquisite. He began to move his fingers in and out of her, whispering low praises and foreign curses, while his thumb worked at her aching pearl.

She was well on her way to reach the pinnacle, bucking her hips to increase friction. His hips moved as well, mindlessly arching into her thigh on their own account. His focus was on her, but his own body was crying for release too. Suddenly, she only wanted to come if he was there within her.

Her hand stilled his ministrations while the other attempted to pull his deceptively strong body on top of her. "Please, I want you inside me," her words came out hoarse, urgent. He didn't argue with her, but halted her when she led his length towards her wetness.

"Wait. Let me get a condom," he tried to get off her, but she kept him firmly trapped by wrapping her legs around his waist.

"I have an IUD and I'm sure we're both clean, please… let me feel you." She stroked his chest, grazing his nipples now and again. His shaft seemed to swell every time and the tip glistened with liquid.

"Christine, I… I don't think I'll last long, you don't know how long I've dreamed of this," he implored, but he was already relaxing into her again, leaning down to kiss her throat.

"I won't either the way you got me going," she said truthfully, her core begging to be filled. "Erik, I want you." The last part made him moan out loud, finally taking his shaft in hand and leading it to her womanhood. He dragged the underside of his length through her inner lips and over her swollen bud, now fully exposed from its cover, and she whimpered at the contact.

At long last he positioned himself, letting the tip slide shallowly inside. "Good God, Christine," he gasped and settled over her, clearly holding back. She cupped his misshapen face, tugging him down to kiss him. Then, with a slow thrust, he entered her.

"Sweet angel, ah…" he sighed against her lips as he eased into her. Her moan came deep from her throat as she felt her walls pulse around his intruding length that made every nerve inside her buzz. He stilled when he was buried to the hilt, giving her a moment to get used to him. "Oh Christine… you. You are everything," he murmured into her jaw, kissing her anywhere he could reach.

He was bigger than expected, but instead of making her feel overwhelmed, she felt whole. And when she looked into his eyes they were so full of adoration it took her breath away.

"Erik…" she felt more emotional than she had taken into account - despite their relationship,  
despite her strong attraction to him. He leaned down to kiss her chastely on the lips. It was all incredibly tender and she felt overcome as butterflies fluttered wildly in her stomach. Desperate to put an end to her inner turmoil, she gripped Erik's shoulders, digging her nails into the skin, and lifted her hips. A choked moan escaped him and finally, he began to move.

The pull and push of lovemaking was familiar to her after the one and a half year relationship she'd had with Raoul. But she'd never had sex with anyone else and the difference of experiencing sex with a new person surprised her. With Raoul it had been pleasant, but not mind-blowing unless extra attention was continuously given to other parts of her body.

With Erik, however, she was instantly swept into a whirlwind of pleasure, capturing her in a timeless vortex where desire was fueling her movements and sounds and the only thing that mattered was his body against hers. The world closed in on them, his gaze consuming her as he plunged into her pulsating depths with an unrushed pace.

Maybe it was because it was Erik of all people. Her beloved mentor, her dear friend. They'd opened their minds to each other through music, their souls becoming one; now they were sharing their bodies as well and it felt as potent as when they sang together.

Tears sprung from her eyes, making Erik come to a sudden halt. He tried to pull away in shock, but her legs around his waist held him inside her, molded together as one. "Christine," his voice was edged with concern and barely restrained lust. "What is wrong? Did I hurt you?"

She quickly shook her head, trying to figure out how to explain what she felt. The words came tumbling out of her the moment she opened her mouth. "I love you," she sobbed, finally accepting the truth of it. This wasn't the love one had for a friend, nor was it a simple crush. It was a love so fierce it burned, impossible to contain now that they were one.

He laughed; a stab of hurt rushed through her before she noticed the relief in his laughter. Gazing down at her, his own eyes tearing up as well, he smiled. "Oh Christine, I'd never thought I would hear those words for you. _I_ love _you_. Gods, I've loved you for so long." He pulled her closer and kissed her, their tears of happiness mingling between them.

They began to move again, making love in the truest sense of the word. He worshiped her body with his mouth and hands, vocalizing his love for her against her skin. She gripped him, holding onto him as she met his every thrust with her own, and gave into her love for him.

The world spun around them as their coupling led towards a transcendent crescendo, winding their bodies up until they were ready to give way. Christine's muscles ached and shook with the impending rapture, begging Erik to go faster. He settled a hand on her hip and let his thumb skate across her pearl every time he dove into her; soon she was crying out as pleasure coursed through her, the entirety of her being consumed by the spasms. Her core drenched his shaft in wet release and contracted around him; he groaned, giving into his need to drive into her in a punishing pace until he called out her name and stilled inside her.

They held each other for a long time afterwards, ignoring the stickiness of their mixed fluids between them, whispering declarations of love as they shared chaste kisses.

* * *

Christine had just entered her room for the first time in several days when her phone rang. They'd finally gotten out of bed for more than a few minutes and Erik had declared that he would make her a proper dinner and that she was to dress accordingly. She suspected he was just looking forward to undressing her, but so was she.

She balked a little when she saw the number of unread texts before she took the call. "Hi Chris! I haven't heard from you in a few days. I was getting a little worried, you know." Meg scolded her.

"Hi! I'm so sorry! I guess I was busy." She giggled a little to herself, thinking of all the ways Erik had kept her busy. "I was--"

"Have you heard?" Meg interrupted her, "the quarantine is over! Come home already, we're going out!"

Christine barely heard what Meg said. From the kitchen came Erik's sensual voice, singing 'Within You' from Labyrinth, better than David Bowie ever could. Her knees immediately turned weak.

"Sorry, Meg, I think I have to stay a few more days here. You know how strict Erik can be. Talk to you soon though, bye!"

Being quarantined really wasn't that bad.

**Author's Note:**

> The song Erik sings to Christine is The Day After Tomorrow by Saybia.


End file.
